Date: Mon, 21 May 2012 16:54:00 +0100 (BST)
From: Nick Paston
Subject: Peter on the Couch
Peter on the Couch -- or my education continues
OK, so fast forward a couple of years from the episode where I sucked Gary
off in that Scout tent when I was 14. I won't pretend that I was completely
celibate for that 18 -- 20 month period, but lets just say that I reverted
to being a 'normal' 14/15 year old. Compulsive masturbation and longing for
the days when I could allow Robin to get me off at will. My encounters with
Robin, Benjamin and Gary gave me some very special memories. The sort that
very few 14 year old could ever boast of.
I was just plain lucky I guess.
But as I have said in my first introduction, I am bisexual, so
experimenting with girls did go on. I never got the same thrill from
slipping a finger into a teenage pussy as I did from slipping my lips over
a quivering hard cock, but I got by. I was OK looking, so enough girls
allowed me to play hide the finger, and even returned the favour on
occasion. Enough for me to start to forget the high I used to get from
going down on a boy/man. Almost...
So, as I said, fast forward almost 2 years. I am 16, and about to embark on
a personal adventure not involving sex (at least not at first). I managed
to get some average O levels, and my prospective sixth form college was in
Southend on Sea. Now anyone reading this who lives outside the UK will
struggle to picture this town. Lets just say to my American friends, its
like Coney Island without the charm. To anyone residing within the UK, just
imagine your nearest coastal resort, they are all pretty much the same, at
least they were in those days. 'Kiss Me Quick' hats, sunburn, candy floss
and litter covered streets.
But in those heady, teenage days, with the prospect of new horizons, new
people and the challenge of A levels, I was very excited to be going. The
only fly in the ointment was having to find a room locally, as it was too
far to commute. I solved that by persuading my Dad to take me there on a
trip in the pre term break, in order to find a bedsit, suitable for a
student. I got lucky. I found a large, airy bedsit in a street 20 yards
from the sea front. The house was large and Edwardian in build. I had
French windows out onto a balcony overlooking the rambling garden and the
owners of the house were a pretty laid back couple, despite the fact that
he was a merchant banker. His wife was a Junoesque brunette with a heart
laugh and usually an armful of toddlers. Her husbands job seemed to involve
earning a massive salary, which enabled her to produce a child a year,
judging by the army of kids who solemnly watched me move in with my sparse
belongings. Rules were simple. No alcohol in my room. No playing guitar
after midnight, and it was considered compulsory for me to attend the
regular Saturday afternoon garden parties they hosted. These parties were
liberally lubricated with red wine and smelly cheeses, and were an excuse
for every relative the couple had to turn up and drink the cellar dry. It
was a match made in heaven for me.
After a couple of months I was virtually one of the family, and even the
alcohol in my room rule was relaxed. I settled in well at the College, and
life seemed great. It was about to get greater...
The day in question was a Friday. I had discovered a pub in the next street
where the landlord was flexible about students coming in, so long as they
drank more than a single half pint every hour, and at the other end of the
scale, didn't throw up in the flower pots after too much beer. So this
summers evening, I was nursing a pint of bitter, pretending I liked it,
when I guy I knew vaguely from previous visits came in. I remembered his
name was Peter. He was tall, just under 6 feet, a little gangly, and his
permanent wardrobe seemed to consist of brown needle cord trousers and blue
shirts. Not the same ones every day, you understand. It was just that he
seemed to have endless almost identical trousers and shirts. I nodded to
him, and as the pub was virtually deserted, he came over after collecting a
pint of lager from the bar and we talked. He was funny, articulate and
engaging and we got on well. Just the usual teenage stuff really, although
he was about 2 years older than me. He had quite long brown hair and one of
his eyes had a slight cast, which didn't detract from his looks, just
something you noticed in passing. Anyway, we carried on drinking, until
suddenly, it was dark outside, and I realised I had drunk more than usual,
enough to make me a little unsteady as I walked to the pub toilets just
before we left.
I suppose I could blame the drink. In those days, alcohol reduced my
inhibitions, but not the performance (apart from prolonging it!) Oh I wish
that were still true!
But in any case, when he suggested going back to his flat to have another
drink, I agreed readily. It turned out he lived literally feet from the pub
(just as well, as I remember swaying somewhat alarmingly)
The flat was in a mansion block, built sometime between the wars, so the
rooms were cavernous and the stairs steep. I was surprised, even in my
groggy state, to see that it was a pretty damn big flat. Two bedrooms, a
bathroom, a kitchen and a lounge which stretched the width of the
building. It must have been over 25 feet wide, with two picture windows
looking out over the road outside. We sat down, him on the couch (aha I
hear you say, but patience is a virtue, although there is precious little
virtue to come!) and me on the footstool next to the arm of his seat. Don't
ask me why I sat that close, but he didn't query it, and it proved helpful
later!
Anyway, we had another can of beer, most of which I left, as I really
didn't think I could stomach another one. We chatted a while and he asked
me if I had a girlfriend (no) and other slightly more personal stuff. I got
that tingle I had experienced before, when you didn't know what, but
something was definitely going to happen.
Out of the blue, my hormones starting to overpower the alcohol, I blurted
out
"Do you have any porn?"
Don't ask me why I said that, I still don't know. I mean, its not an
opening gambit in most dinner party conversations, is it?
He looked sideways at me with an amused look, and grinned.
" I think so" he said slowly "But it depends what sort of porn you like"
That stumped me, and I looked at him stupidly for a second or two, trying
to find the right words
"Err, I dunno, you choose" I ended up saying, inwardly kicking myself
He got up and went to what I presumed was his bedroom and came back
clutching half a dozen colour magazines.
I hadn't really expected him to have any ( I sure didn't in those days) So
when he plonked them in my lap, I just looked at him for a minute. Then I
plucked up the courage to look down at the selection he had made. Color
Climax, Rodox... these titles are familiar to many of us now, but then I
was dazzled by the explicit covers with girls and women sucking huge cocks,
drizzled with cum. I swallowed nervously and flipped over a couple of mags
until reaching the bottom of the small pile. 'Piccolo' was the title of the
last one, and this time it wasn't teenage girls sucking. There were kids of
12 and 13, boys, naked, erect and not just posing. As I looked through the
magazine page by page, they were in full contact. Boys sucking boys, boys
sucking men, men fucking boys, boys with cum filled mouths, grinning at the
camera. I was totally stunned.
Now I suppose you've guessed that the selection Peter made was deliberate.
Some heterosexual porn at first, and at the bottom, a real eye opener to
see my reaction.
Well you've guessed my reaction already, haven't you? I had an erection
that threatened to burst my cotton trousers. I looked up at Peter, red with
embarrassment and excitement, and saw him grinning at me.
"See anything you like?" he smirked. What do you think?
I took a deep breath, before answering, and as he sat down beside me, I
went into auto pilot. I saw my hand reach over to his lap and squeeze his
crotch. Thankfully there were signs of life in his trousers too and he
quickly turned his head to face me.
"I didn't know you were...?" he said quietly
"Oh" I said, unsure of what he was getting at. "Well, I sort of like
both..."
He smiled at me and relaxed back onto the cushions. I was in business
again...
I stroked his cock through the smooth material of his cord jeans until the
bulge grew along the line of his zip fly to the waistband. It felt great,
thick and hard as iron. I reached for his belt and saw him watching my
hands work on him. Releasing the brown leather belt and unbuttoning his
jeans, I slid the brass zip slowly down until the material opened wide and
I could see that his erection was fully hard. His boxer shorts were
stretched tight over his cock and my eyes widened when I say how big he
was.
Now I had already sucked off that black guy in the Rec, so I knew that
cocks got bigger than my own 7". But this was impressive. I ran finger and
thumb down its length, not gripping, just following its outline. I pushed
his trousers down slightly, until they were out of my way, and gulped at
what was revealed. I guess he would have been between 9 and 10 inches. Not
too thick, just in proportion. Although I hadn't yet freed him from the
shorts, his cock was clearly outlined in the blue material. I felt my
tongue lick my lips in anticipation, and from the corner of my eye, saw his
expression change to a sly smile. This wasn't the first time another boy
had admired his prodigious cock.
I wanted more, much more, so I pulled at his shorts, trying to get them
down, but I felt his hand stop me. For a moment, my heart sank, thinking he
had had second thoughts, but his next words reassured me.
"Not here" he said in a low voice. "I share this flat with my older sister,
and she might come home early. Let's go to my bedroom"
Standing up, he led me towards one of the closed doors in the hallway.
"I need to..." I said , nodding in the direction of the open bathroom
door. Actually I didn't really need to pee, but I have always been keenly
aware about personal hygiene, and I wanted to wash myself before getting
naked with this kid. He nodded quickly before leaving me alone, and going
inside his bedroom.
I washed myself quickly, not wanting the mood to evaporate too much. As I
pushed open the bedroom door, and closed it behind me I saw that he was on
the double bed. Naked.
Actually it stopped me in my tracks. If you've read my previous true life
experiences, you will know that, on the whole, my experiences with other
boys and men were usually chance affairs, only once being consummated on an
actual bed, when Robin initiated me into the glories of 69. This kid was
ready and waiting, and he wasn't going to let pesky clothes get in the
way. I stripped nervously, conscious that my wilting 7" wasn't in the same
league as my partners hard on.
I needn't have worried. After I laid beside him and slid my hand over his
flat brown belly, gripping the object of my desire as if I was afraid it
would disappear, he whispered in my ear in a voice hot with need.
"Can I come in your mouth?" he breathed. I looked at him, wondering why
this was even an issue
"Of course" I said. "I like to do that"
His eyes widened in surprise, and he spoke again
"I've only done this a couple of times" he said "And they never...."
I guessed his earlier partners were more cautious than yours truly, so I
smiled at his tone
"Listen Peter...I have only done this a couple of times too, but I
always... you know"
He grinned a wide grin and ran his hand over my chest, down across my own
smooth belly and slid his palm around my rapidly stiffening cock. I loved
the cool feel of his thin fingers and shivered slightly, as if someone had
walked over my grave. This was going to be fun, I thought, before conscious
thoughts left me for the duration.
We slowly masturbated each other, me still marvelling that this skinny body
had such a large and impressive erection rearing above it. I stroked him
slowly, wanting to remember every second. His cock was hot, and I could
feel the veins and curves of it in my palm as if I was recording it for
later replay. The head was fat, bulbous, and although uncut, the stroking I
was giving it retracted the skin until the slick moisture of his pre-cum
coated my fingers. I could smell sex in the air. It was
intoxicating. Unlike previous encounters, we had all night...
When the touch of our fingers was no longer bearable, we slotted easily
into the side by side 69 position Robin had taught me. I held his cock
close to my lips, still devouring it with my eyes. I felt the hot wetness
of his mouth cover my cock, and gasped in pleasure as he began to suck. I
ran my tongue round the whole of his cock head, adding my saliva to the
sweet pre-cum his cock was now producing. I felt him groan, rather than
heard him, his mouth full with my own erection. Now I wanted him to feel
the same pleasure I was feeling. Instead of following my instinct, and
sucking as much in as I could, I savoured the experience of mouthing just
the head, using my tongue to lap and circle his sensitive glans. His hips
jerked as I did that, and I knew that neither of us were going to last
long.
In fact I was wrong. I didn't last more than another 3 minutes. His sucking
was expert, intense and relentless. With his fist pumping me and his other
hand either cupping my balls or wandering underneath to tease my bum with a
probing finger (something even Robin hadn't prepared me for) I felt the
sperm rising in my shaft all too quickly. I knew I was going to blow, so I
released his delicious cock, and grunted a warning
"Peter, I'm gonna cum!" I managed, before it was too late. I felt his mouth
release me, and the cool air finished me off. I spurted 4 or 5 hard jets of
cum at his face. He took the load mostly on his chin, only putting me back
in his mouth when the last weak pulse ran down my sensitive glans. He
sucked me then, slowly licking around my shaft as I jerked in helpless
need.
Once I have cum, like most guys, I don't always have the same desire, but
something about this cock kept me excited. Swooped back on it. I felt him
relax onto his back, so I slid round until I was in the old familiar
position, between a pair of adolescent thighs, mouth full of excited flesh.
He didn't last much longer, maybe a couple of minutes, but I made him pay
for his teasing. I waited until his fingers gripped my head and his hips
began to thrust upwards, needing release, then stopped sucking and just
licked. He let out a strangled "No, stop, I mean keep doing that"
I did this three times, each one leading to him almost exploding. At last I
tired of this torment and I decided to let him come. As his hips began the
jerky movements just before a climax, I plopped his cock out of my mouth
and, in a harsh whisper I said
"Come for me. I want it in my mouth"
His breath was coming in frantic pants, and as the words left my mouth, he
shouted
"Oh fuck, suck me, quick, its coming"
I swallowed that big plum like head and put as much suction on it as I
thought he could stand. My tongue danced around the tip as the first big
pulse of hot cum hit the back of my mouth. He didn't come as much as
Benjamin, nor was it as sweet, but I was past caring. I swallowed, then
sucked hard again, swallowed, sucked, swallowed sucked. He was going crazy,
fingers scrabbling in my hair, hips banging away on the bed. God, it was a
performance to relish!
After I had swallowed all he had to give, we rested side by side, the sweat
cooling on our bodies. I think I even slept a little, the combination of
sated sex and alcohol is a powerful combination.
Unlike my previous encounters, this one led to several more. With his
sister away more often than at home, I spent a number of pleasant evenings
suckling on that monster cock., and he on my more modest one. We actually
talked about sex, which isn't something I was used to. One afternoon, he
invited me round, and I found out the source of his porn stash. His older
brother was a diplomatic courier in Denmark, and lots of salacious material
found its way back to the Essex seaside. He had films too, and several
times we lay naked on his bed, his brothers 16mm projector mounted beside
the bed, a sheet pinned to the wall while two Scandinavian kids performed
for us. We would lay, holding each other cocks, while some 13 year old boy
gave a bravura performance of fellatio on his playmate, and after, the
cameraman. Oh happy days!
The 'affair' went on for most of that summer, until his sister got married,
and moved out of the flat. It was a happy time, probably the most carefree
sex I had ever enjoyed up to that point. I've never seen Peter since that
summer in the early 70's, but I still have the odd daydream about that
magnificent cock. In fact, due to my budding interest in 35mm photography
then, I'm sure there are a couple of rolls of undeveloped black and white
negatives in a drawer in my office featuring yours truly sucking a heroic
cock! Maybe I should try to find a developer/printer who is discrete!
Comments welcome on nic27552@yahoo.co.uk !!